A morning guy
by Elizabeth Mary Holmes
Summary: Every morning, Harry Potter ate a bowl of cereals he had purchased at ASDA. Every morning, Draco Malfoy ate a single crumpet with a freshly brewed cup of Earl Grey tea. Every morning, Harry Potter would wake a bit too late but would manage to catch his bus. Every morning , Draco Malfoy, right on time at the station, would catch his train. But not that morning. NON-MAGICAL AU


**Title:** **A morning guy**

 **Author :** Elizabeth Mary Holmes

 **For :** MISSLouna22

 **Rated: M**

 **Genre(s): Romance/Humour – Non-Magical AU**

 **Word count : 2 031**

 **Disclaimers :** Harry Potter and its characters don't belong to me … fortunately for them.

 **Notes : This little thing was written for the Collectif NoName Secret Santa back in 2015. It was for MISSLouna22. Before you ask, there is differences with the French text. Let me add that it was my very first attempt at writing Drarry. On that, enjoy your reading! (I will be glad to receive your feedback)**

–-

Every morning, Harry Potter ate a bowl of discounted bulk-bought cereals he had purchased at ASDA.

Every morning, Draco Malfoy ate a single crumpet with a freshly brewed cup of loose leaves Earl Grey tea.

Every morning, Harry Potter would wake a bit too late but would manage to catch the bus.

Every morning , Draco Malfoy, right on time at the station, would catch his train.

But not that day.

That day trains were on strike, Malfoy had been unable to catch his.

—

Harry Potter was surrounded by kids going to the local high school, shaking pensioners going to the supermarket, bawling toddlers with their nanny, but Harry Potter was used to the fauna of public transportation.

This morning Draco Malfoy was in the bus and on his lambswool coat covering a perfectly pressed grey velvet suit with a gorgeous green silk tie, a bawling toddler had regurgitated his breakfast. At the very moment Harry Potter raised his head and could not help laughing heartily. Draco Malfoy shoot daggers at Harry Potter.

— — —

Draco Malfoy's adventures in public transportation would not be over , the train strike had lasted for would be wrong to say that he was delighted to take every morning that tin on wheels of a bus but he was secretly happy to start the day with the sight of that dark-haired chap. After three days , he admitted to himself that he found the man to be rather attractive albeit awfully dressed, but the spontaneous laugh was still a sore point.

A pair of old worn-out jeans, a grey hoodie with trainers that had seen better days were what he was wearing . How could one could go out with such clothes ?! But yet, his tousled 'I have just been shagged" jet-black hair and his sparkling green eyes... Draco Malfoy would have been glad to be the one doing the shagging part.

—

"Is everything alright, sir ?" asked his personal secretary.

"Yes, everything is alright Miss Greengrass! I don't pay you for enquiring about my well-being … nor for schoolgirls talking with Miss Parkinson, am I clear ? " Draco was fuming but still, as soon as the words were said he regretted his harshness. But still … he was the boss, for Godness's sake.

Miss Greengrass had noticed that it had been since a week or so that her Mr Malfoy had become quite temperamental, she knew it was not in his his ways. Had he been someone else she would have said it was due to sexual frustration but Draco Malfoy was not that kind of man. To someone else she would have advised a proper wank, but still …

—

Train services returned to the normal after two weeks but Malfoy found himself carrying on taking the bus. He wanted to have his daily eyeful of the dark-haired awfully dressed but thoroughly shaggable chap.

Harry could not help but smile behind his travel mug filled to the brink with scalding-hot coffee. He knew very well that trains were no longer on strike. However his smile disappeared at once. The driver had to brake hard to avoid a man with a purple dress that crossed nonchalantly in the middle of the road. The subsequent jolt projected Malfoy right on his lap and between his legs while the terribly hot coffee followed the same way.

The two men screeched : it was a cross between the sound you would make when finding a mouse in your teapot and being told you won at the lottery. Draco cursed himself but thought that ashamed for ashamed he should make good use of the situation. If he screwed up he could always take the train the following morning.

"I am sorry sir, I will pay for your dry cleaners fees ..."

" Potter, Harry, I am no sir , sir! And no need for dry cleaners..."

" At least, allow me to offer you a coffee for that!" he pointed at the spilled coffee that was drying on Harry's hoodie's hem. "I know a nice place, just a few streets over there"

"If you insist ..." answered Harry with a polite smile. Inwardly he thought that it was surely an empty and ready-made phrase. The suit-wearing chap did not seem to be one to invite the first man met in the bus to have a coffee. He seemed to be quite a big shot, one of those people working in the City.

Two stops later, in what seemed to be a rather posh area, they got off the bus and they made their way to a rather small and posh _café_ where Malfoy seemed to belong. He was indeed on first-name basis with the barman and so Harry learnt that his coffee was a courtesy of Mr Draco .

Harry send a quick text to his boss saying his alarm clock had failed to do its job this morning and that he was caught in the traffic jams because he had to take a later bus and so would arrive in an hour and half or so.

After twenty minutes, they were at Draco and Harry rather than Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy. It would have felt quite odd otherwise, as it happened that they were both 26. The hour flew as in a dream and the two men where still grinning stupidly at each other over their steaming cups.

"I would be delighted if we could see each other again" said Draco

"Gladly, but please, next time forget about the scalding-hot coffee!" grinned Harry.

They hastily rose together , almost making the little table between them fall. As they were about to shake hands and give each other their phone number, Harry thought it was time to initiate something.

For five seconds, he looked at Draco straight in the eyes before closing the space between their faces in a clumsy kiss. Potter cursed himself , it was too fast, Draco would hate it and would never date him again. It was still time to run away.

And then, the kiss was furthered with passion , Draco ravenously licked Harry's parched lips and it was only out of shortness of breath that they stopped. Harry muttered a "sorry" but Draco had none of it and kissed him again.

The barman coughed a bit and the two men suddenly jumped away from the other, cheeks flushed partly to be caught in such a situation and partly because desire has crept between their joined bodies.

Draco took a full minute to think : he had a sofa bed back at his office in case he missed the last train – he had always been a careful man – but Pansy and Astoria would talk. But still, he was Draco _fucking_ Malfoy and he would shag whoever he wanted (as long as the person consented to it) ! And to hell with conventions.

–-

Some mornings you should have taken train instead of bus.

Some mornings going to work was like going down to the mine.

But not that morning!

— — —

Potter and Malfoy still grinned at each-other as they strode up Horizont Alley to make their way to the headquarters of Slytherin Ltd. The small four-storey building was at the the end. and were almost running by then. Desire was almost painful.

They reached the glass hall of the small four-storey building. Draco tried his best to look professional but it was more than hard to keep the appearances. The secretary noticed that her boss was more than two hours late, but there was surely an explanation to be found. She had it in the person of a somewhat sheepish yet smiling Harry Potter, that she understood the situation, and smiled too.

Usually, Harry would have taken the stairs but they were now in the small cabin of the lift , kissing hungrily, Draco letting his cool hand slither under the large hoodie, oblivious of the coffee stain. Harry was carding through the blond hair as he furthered the kiss.

The boss was facing the glass door of his office and struggled with his key set. When one is in a hurry, one always seem to have some difficulties to find the right key. He tried to breath as calmly as he could in regard of his growing excitation, and went against shagging Harry right against the wall. At last, he managed to open the door.

Draco led him to the little room in which he put the sofa bed and hurried to unfold it without taking the time to remove the cover.

Of course, the two men were not first-timers. Seven years of single-sex boarding school in the remotest part of Scotland and a certain Blaise Zabini had the better of Draco Malfoy's virginity. Regarding Harry Potter, all he could remember was that it happened after a pretty boozy student party with someone he never knew the name of. Apparently the chap had been a damn good shag.

Harry peeled off his worn-out jeans the best he could while Draco struggled with the mother-of-pearl buttons of his crisp white shirt. One of the buttons rolled under the filling cabinet . Harry took it as a call for help from his partner.

Soon , they were back to the basics, only wearing their briefs. Another clumsy kiss and they rutted against each-other and after that they finally discarded the underwear and their two reddish and fully-erected pricks met at last, burning and weeping with desire.

They tried to make themselves comfortable in the small sofa bed and after a bit of preparation including the use of copious amounts of lubricant, they yielded to carnal pleasure with much delight. Flushed cheeks and Cheshire cats grins adorned their faces. As soon as they tried to leave the makeshift bed , they went back to a drowsy post-coital bliss that made them cuddle. That day neither Harry Potter nor Draco Malfoy had the mind to work.

Potter had to check his phone to see if Mr Dobby replied to his text. He fished for it in the mess of his shoulder bag on which he lowered himself. He could felt Draco's gaze the small of his back and could have said "Are you enjoying the sight ?" , but even in post-coital bliss , this sounded definitely too cheesy. He checked his antediluvian phone : " As you are not here yet, you should go back home Mr Potter, you have the day off " advised Mr Dobby to his foreman. A very lenient boss, Mr Dobby. Especially with Harry who had introduced him to his very talented sales manager, Hermione Granger.

Our two friends, youth be blessed, were able to come back at it several times. The day slowly but sure went by. By five, they parted , very sticky but happy. They swore they would contact the other.

— — —-

Draco was not sure Harry would like to meet again but still, the following day he took the tin on wheels rather than the train.

—-

 _Five years later_

Every morning, Harry Potter would climb in Draco Malfoy's Mini and would work his day at Dobby Ltd. , workshop of crafted woollen garments since 1997.

Every morning, Draco Malfoy would nick a few cereals from Harry Potter's bowl after eating his single crumpet.

Every morning on their kitchen table stood proudly a pipping-hot teapot of Earl Grey tea. It was covered with a superb custom-made tea cosy, courtesy of Mr Dobby to his employee, as a wedding gift.

Every night when not too tired by their day and in the mood for it , they would make love.


End file.
